From last time:
“We’re not dealing with ordinary street criminals here,” the police chief replied haughtily.
Clark’s eyes narrowed. “I’m well aware of that,” he said. “But I also know that Macau has been trying to shed its reputation as a haven for organized crime. I’ve seen enough of how the Triads operated in Metropolis to help bring down the organization here, as well.”
Wan shook his head. “Do you really think you can go from city to city, shutting down every organized crime syndicate you come across?”
“No,” Superman admitted. “But I do believe that I can make people realize that obtaining Kryptonite and using innocent children as bait to try to kill me will end very badly for them.” The cold edge to his voice left no doubt about his position on the subject. “If you change your position, you know how to contact me.” With that, Superman strode out of the room.
********
New stuff:
She kept tuning in her hearing for some evidence that her husband was nearby – she strained so she wouldn’t miss the sounds of shuffling papers in his office, or his voice as he chatted with colleagues, or the unmistakable rhythm of his heartbeat. But he wasn’t in the building. She knew that already. He’d missed the morning staff meeting after being gone all night. He’d told her he expected to be gone a while, so it wasn’t time to start panicking yet, but she couldn’t help but check her watch every few moments. In just a couple of hours, they were supposed to go to Jon’s nursery school for the holiday play. He wouldn’t miss Jon’s play.
Lois sighed as she stared at the story on her monitor. With Perry at some conference in Washington, D.C. and Clark pre-occupied with his other profession, she was left to edit the front page stories for tomorrow’s paper. But even though the subject of the state short-changing Metropolis’s public schools out of hundreds of millions of dollars a year was usually something she could get worked up about, she was finding it difficult to focus on anything. Much less work.
She looked at the little clock in the lower right hand corner of her computer screen again just as she heard the telltale “whoosh” and the thumping of boots on the floor. She smiled to herself. He was back. A few moments later, he was walking into her office, smoothing his tie.
“Sorry I missed the staff meeting this morning,” he apologized as he walked across her office to stand behind her desk. She swiveled around in her chair to face him, looking up at him just as he leaned down to give her a kiss.
“Yeah, well with both you and Perry out, I declared a coup and instituted martial law,” she joked.
“How’s that working out for you?” he asked as he sat down on the edge of her desk.
“I’m having his office measure for new drapes this evening.”
“But only after Jon’s play, right?”
“Of course,” she replied with mock indignation, eliciting a smile from him. “How was everything?” she asked as she placed her hand on his knee.
“Okay,” he replied, covering her hand with his. “The feds aren’t exactly happy with having the Chinese take the lead on this, but it’s better than the stonewalling they were getting in the past.”
“Still not getting much cooperation?” she asked.
“No, the Chinese are going after the Triads, but they’ve made it perfectly clear to Dave Brewer who’s in charge,” he said, referring to the Type A special agent in charge of the Metropolis field office’s investigation into the criminal syndicate.
“So Superman has to mediate the clash?” He nodded. “I wish I could help,” she offered.
“Last I heard, the Chinese government didn’t like Ultrawoman all that much,” he replied with a lopsided grin, referencing her efforts to diplomatically strong-arm the Chinese into helping end the war in Kinwara.
“Come on, that was years ago,” she scoffed. “They should be over it by now.”
“Well, if you really want to, you can try explaining that to them. But I’m going to go do some work, you know, justify my paycheck and all.” He stood up and kissed her once again.
“Love you,” she whispered close to his lips.
“Love you, too,” he replied softly.
“Will you be ready to go in two hours?”
“They don’t call me ‘Superman’ for nothing,” he assured her quietly before turning to leave her office.
********
“Mommy, mommy, did you like my play?” Jon asked as he rushed toward his parents and grandparents in the audience, swishing awkwardly from side to side as he tried to run in his foam and felt costume.
“We loved your play!” Lois exclaimed as she knelt down to hug her little snowflake.
“You were an awesome snowflake, buddy,” Clark declared. Jon jumped up to give his dad a high five.
“Are you ready to go get pizza now?” his grandpa asked.
“Yeah!” Jon agreed with a beaming smile. Once Jon was freed from his costume, they left the nursery school and piled into the latest of Lois’s beloved Jeeps. All around them, the city had donned her finest for the season – twinkling lights hung on the branches of every tree, red ribbons and garlands were wrapped around every lamppost, and the signs in the store windows wished Metropolitans happy holidays. There was no snow yet, but it didn’t stop Jon from starting to sing ‘Frosty the Snowman’ exuberantly and loudly as his mother drove down the East Side Drive to their favorite pizza place.
Since Thanksgiving, Lois had been trying to apply a more Zen-like thinking to the holidays. Instead of focusing on the stress and anxiety they tended to bring, she was content this year to not try to make everything perfect. Last year, all of their holiday plans were laid to waste by the tsunami in Indonesia. In the four years prior to that, Christmas had been a source of sadness and loneliness for her, as it only served to intensify the pain surrounding Clark’s absence. So this year, she was going to focus on the simple things. She was going to take her parents up on the offer to take Jon to see Santa. She’d already done most of her shopping on-line this year, allowing her to avoid the chaos and insanity of Metropolis’s stores. Jon, who was practically an irrepressibly happy child, was going to be content because he was going to get to play with his presents with his parents and grandparents. They would spend time with their family, and if he could find some time between the investigation in China and all of his holiday superhero duties, she might even find time to enjoy a quiet evening with her husband.
She tried not to let her thoughts be dominated by the date marked on her calendar, more than a month away, when they were scheduled for the amniocentesis. Lois had peppered Bernie with questions about the procedure—its safety and reliability—after reading everything she could find on it. He’d assured her that returning her invulnerability to her after the amnio would immediately eliminate the most significant risk factors—infection and a failure of the puncture site to heal. She couldn’t stand the idea that she might be doing something else to put the baby in danger, but Bernie had soberly reminded her that if something were wrong, learning that earlier on in the pregnancy increased the likelihood of success through interventionist medicine. She and Clark were being asked to play a numbers game with their child’s health and it left her feeling ill.
But now wasn’t the time for those thoughts. Now, she needed to concentrate on the traffic and get everyone safely to Giovanni’s. Then the usual spirited arguments over pepperonis versus peppers could ensue. A light drizzle started to fall, illuminated by all of the city’s bright lights. She flipped on the windshield wipers and slowed down slightly. It was cold outside – that peculiar damp, deep in the bones sort of cold that made forty degrees and rainy feel much colder than twenty degrees and snowing, for some reason. She almost missed that feeling. Being invulnerable to the cold dulled the pleasure of sitting in a nice, warm car, safely cocooned away from the elements. A taxi cut her off, quickly filling the void she’d allowed to form between her and the car in front of her. Lois bit her tongue to keep the usual stream of invectives from pouring out. It was amazing what living with a four year old and your in-laws could do to remove the most colorful parts of your vocabulary, she mused silently.
She wondered if the Lois Lane of ten years ago would even recognize her current self:
Deeply in love, married, expecting her second child.
Super-powered, still confident, but stripped of that cocky bravado that served as armor against the feeling like you had to constantly prove yourself.
No longer absorbed with work to the complete exclusion of everything else. Not complacent, but perhaps content.
She’d known greater joy and sorrow, greater loss and satisfaction than her younger self could have ever dreamed possible. And oddly enough, those feelings had nothing to do with all the fancy prizes she had collected and which sat barely noticed in the library at home. Would she have been able to believe that winning a Pulitzer didn’t even factor into the ten greatest moments in her life? That hearing her son say the word “daddy” for the first time would shatter her composure and reduce her to tears? Or that she would one day love a man so much that she would have traded every professional success she’d ever known just to see him smile at her again? Could she have ever fathomed what it would be like to be the most physically powerful being in the universe? Or to be invulnerable and still scared to death the way she had been for the last few months?
In thirty four years, she’d done more living than most people could manage with a hundred lifetimes. But what was important to her had never been clearer. She wanted her children to be happy and safe. She wanted her husband to know he’d never face another fight alone. She wanted to leave things just a little better than she found them. Perhaps the old Lois Lane would have thought she’d grown soft. Or maybe her younger self would have been able to recognize that it wasn’t how hard she fought that had changed, but what she fought for.
********
“It’s got to be Jiang Jai He,” Agent Brewer said as he dropped the thick file on his desk and continued pacing restlessly behind his chair. “He’s got his fingers in all the right pies and he was in Metropolis during the weeks before the attack.”
“But our evidence is all circumstantial,” Superman interjected, folding his arms across his chest.
“Because the Chinese keep tying our hands behind our backs,” Brewer stopped pacing and gripped the back of his chair with both hands, leaning forward against it. “You know Wan isn’t interested in what Jiang did here. He’s looking for a way to nail Jiang to the wall in Macau. There’s no way in hell Wan is going to lose this case to either Beijing or Metropolis. Extraditing him here is capitulating to the west. Letting Beijing get its mitts on this one cuts the legs out from under Wan’s argument that the Special Administrative Region is more effective and efficient than the central government.”
Clark frowned. “And so that leaves the FBI what, playing sidekick to the Macau police? Along for the ride, barely tolerated, and definitely not calling the shots.”
“Exactly. And I’m pretty sure you’d agree with me on not wanting to be a sidekick,” Brewer said with a wry grin. “What really burns me is that Macau didn’t even think this guy was worth going after. I can get the bastard charged with two hundred and forty three counts of attempted murder for hire, attempted arson, witness tampering, terrorism, plus I know if we can really open the case, we can connect him to the drugs, the human trafficking, and the forced prostitution rings. Jiang would spend his natural life plus nine hundred years in the pen. Wan will get him on what, six counts of racketeering and extortion, tops?”
“I’ll find something else,” Clark replied firmly. “I’ll serve it up on a silver platter to Wan if I have to, but Jiang is never going to breathe free air again. Not as long as I’m alive.”
Dave Brewer nodded soberly. “I forget sometimes that this is personal for you.”
Clark felt a muscle in his jaw twitch as he clenched his teeth. “Yeah,” he gritted out.
“How is she doing?” Brewer asked, surprising him. It took Clark a split second to realize that the agent was talking about Ultrawoman.
“She’s okay,” he said finally.
Brewer gave him a tight lipped nod. “She’s going to make it back to duty?”
“Yeah,” Clark replied, keeping his answers terse. The image of his wife being shot tended to replay in his mind, filling him with dread and making it harder for him to control his emotions.
“Well, if you get the chance to talk to her, tell her the feds wish her a speedy recovery.”
“I will,” Clark promised.
“She means a lot to you, doesn’t she?” Brewer asked.
Clark could feel his features settling into a wistful smile. “She’s the only person on this planet who really gets me,” he said.
********
The little envelope in the icon tray in the bottom right corner of her screen told her she had a new email. She clicked on it and smiled when she saw the address. He was still in Hong Kong, as far as she knew, investigating the Triads, so the message must have come from his Blackberry.
Mom and Dad are watching Jon. Meet me at The Island Hotel? No need to bring a thing.
Fortunately for them, there was an Island Hotel in Metropolis that served as a codeword for their little island in the South Pacific. It may have been paranoia on their part, but they were both loath to put anything in writing that might seem to suggest they weren’t just two ordinary people. She looked at her watch. It was almost seven in Metropolis, which meant it was late morning in the South Pacific. That close to the equator, there was no difference between summer and winter, which meant the sands on the beach would be warm, the island sun-drenched, the waters inviting. She wondered what he meant by “no need to bring a thing.” Perhaps he was extending a clothing optional invitation. The thought made her smile. Clicking the ‘Reply’ button, she quickly typed “see you soon” and sent it along. Giving her column one last, quick read-through, she LAN’ed it to the editors and shut down her computer.
From the stairwell, she made her way to the Planet’s roof. This time of year, it was already dark out, which meant she didn’t have to worry much about someone noticing Ultrawoman heading west through the evening sky. As she passed into the parts of the world where it was still daylight, she stayed high above the ground and away from well-traveled flight paths. As far as everyone was concerned, Ultrawoman was still off on New Krypton, receiving medical treatment. It wouldn’t do for her to be spotted flying around Earth.
She finally descended onto the beach of their little island. A slight breeze stirred the palms away from the water’s edge, where the thick growth of vegetation hung like a curtain, blocking the other part of the island from view. Just inland from where the water gently lapped at the shore, a table had been set. Long, tapered candles flickered, their light reflected in the empty glasses sitting on the white tablecloth. An overnight bag sat on one of the two chairs. She opened it to find a white bathing suit and a dark blue sarong – far more appropriate attire for the beach than either the Ultrawoman costume or her business suit, she had to admit. She changed into the bikini and tied the sarong around her waist.
Her husband emerged from the jungle, carrying a platter of fruits she didn’t doubt he’d picked right here on the island. The breeze rustled the light, short-sleeved linen shirt he wore, unbuttoned at the collar. He grinned at her, looking relaxed and happy.
“You’ve been busy,” she said as she admired his handiwork. A picnic basket sat next to the table he’d set. Not far away, he’d strung a hammock between two tall palm trees.
“I was hoping to have everything ready by the time you got here,” he said as he set the fruit down next to the picnic basket. He pulled her into his arms and kissed her. “Glad you could make it,” he whispered.
“I wouldn’t have passed up this invitation for the world,” she murmured.
Holding her hands, he stepped back and smiled, his gaze admiring. “You look amazing,” he said.
She smirked at him. “Enjoy it while it lasts.”
“Do you really think I’m going to be less attracted to you when you’re showing,” he asked with an earnest frown.
Lois shook her head. “No,” she replied simply. “You are way too perfect for that. What did I call you once? Mr. Always Right?”
He smiled and kissed her again. “I’m anything but perfect,” he confessed. “I’m just a guy who’s crazy about his wife. His partner. The best friend he’s ever had. The mother of his children.” Each sentence was punctuated by a kiss.
“She’s just as crazy about you,” she replied, her voice thick with emotion. She let him enfold her in his embrace. Her eyes closed, she listened to the steady thump of his heart and the sounds of tiny waves breaking on the shore. The sun climbed higher in the sky, beating down on the sand and warming her skin. Slowly, she started to unbutton his shirt.
“You don’t want to have dinner first?” he asked.
“I figured we could start with dessert,” she replied as she stood on her toes to kiss him.
He started to pull back. “Well, I picked some great coconuts and passion fruit,” he teased.
She hooked her fingers through the belt loops of his khaki shorts and pulled him back toward her. As he kissed her, she could feel him smile against her lips. “Oh, you mean this kind of dessert,” he whispered breathlessly.
Lois tried to give him a smart-alecky response, but her witty rejoinder dissolved into an unintelligible moan as he captured the soft lobe of her ear between his lips and sucked gently on it. She felt his warm hands skim over her back in search of the tie to her bathing suit top. They sank to their knees in the soft sand, the picnic dinner he’d carefully prepared forgotten for a while. Her entire world shrank down to the man who held her so securely in his arms. Whose hands and lips and body worshipped hers so perfectly. Who loved her with every breath he took.
********
Her legs stretched out in front of her, she stared out at the water, where moonlight reflected on the rippling waves in the distance. Looking down at her husband, she smiled. His head in her lap, he gazed up at her as she ran her fingers gently through his hair. “I love you,” she whispered.
“I love you,” he replied softly.
Beside them, the small fire in the pit they’d made out of stones found all over the island crackled and burned warmly. In a few short hours, they’d have to return to Metropolis. Martha and Jonathan would be bringing Jon home from the ice skating rink in Centennial Park and he’d expect his mommy and daddy to be home, waiting for him with hot chocolate and little marshmallows.
She was looking forward to being back in the brownstone, waiting for Jon and her in-laws to come home. To decorating the Christmas tree all together. But she was going to savor these hours with her husband. This little island never failed to act as their safe harbor, a place to recharge their batteries. A place where they could simply love each other and not worry about anything else. If only for a little while.
********
“I can’t believe I’m back here so soon!” Lucy exclaimed as Lois opened the door and puller her younger sister into a hug.
“We’re really happy to have you, Luce,” Lois assured her. “Come on in.”
“I always loved Metropolis at Christmas,” Lucy said with a twinkle in her eye. “The city is like magic.”
“But with a touch of country charm,” Clark said with a wink as he walked over from the living room with a plate of still warm gingerbread men. He gave Lucy a one armed hug before offering her a cookie and taking her bag from her.
“Clark, it’s so good to see you again,” Lucy exclaimed.
“It’s good to have you back here, too,” he said with a smile. “I’ll take this to your room,” he said, gesturing toward the bag.
Lois took the plate of cookies from him and gave him a quick kiss as he turned toward the stairs. “There’s hot apple cider, too,” Lois informed her kid sister.
Lucy grinned in response. “You guys really know how to do Christmas.”
“It’s a Kent thing,” Lois responded. “Mainly, I just try to keep up.”
Lucy’s eyes narrowed as she regarded her sister quizzically. “Are you telling me you don’t love Christmas?”
“I do now,” Lois replied, eliciting a smile from Lucy. She opened the hallway closet door so Lucy could hang up her overcoat and led her sister into the living room, where the stately pine tree stood waiting to be decorated and dressed up.
“I love the smell of pine needles,” Lucy said with another wistful smile. “How’d you find such a great tree in the city?” she asked.
Lois shrugged. “Jonathan and Clark picked it out,” she said, not going into further details as to where they picked it out. She started to open the cardboard boxes marked “Ornaments” that were scattered around the living room. “Are you going to come with us to the Planet’s holiday party tomorrow?”
“Sure,” Lucy agreed enthusiastically. Lois smiled inwardly, wondering if what had brought Lucy back to Metropolis for the second time in just over a month was the chance to see a certain photojournalist she’d recently declared was ‘cute.’ Lucy had been talking about moving back to the city for the last few years, but as was always the case with her kid sister, Lois knew better to believe she’d follow through with her plans until she actually did so. But to be fair, Lucy had finished school and was working a steady job. She may have lacked her older sister’s ambition, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t happy.
“Aunt Lucy! Aunt Lucy! Aunt Lucy!” Jon exclaimed as he raced out of the kitchen toward his aunt.
Lucy scooped up her nephew, swinging him around playfully. “Hey little guy, what’s up?” she asked.
“Look at what I made,” Jon announced proudly, holding up his candy cane reindeer ornament, made with brown pipe cleaner and plastic googly eyes.
“That’s so cool!” Lucy exclaimed. “Are you going to put it on the tree?”
Jon nodded. “Grandma helped me make it,” he explained.
“Grandma’s really good at art, isn’t she?” Lois asked her little boy.
Jon grinned and nodded again. “She said we can paint tomorrow,” he said excitedly. Lucy replaced the little boy on his feet. “Mommy, can I have a cookie?” he asked sweetly.
“Just one,” Lois said with the mock sternness of a parent who loved to indulge her little boy. “You don’t want to spoil your dinner.”
“So who’s ready to decorate a tree?” Clark asked, the infectious enthusiasm clear in his voice, as he entered the living room.
“We are,” Jonathan called out loudly as he and Martha appeared from the kitchen, carrying a tray of mugs of hot apple cider.
“Lucy, it’s so good to have you here,” Martha said warmly. She hugged the younger woman and Jonathan handed her a mug of cider.
“Thank you,” Lucy replied graciously. “I guess I just couldn’t get over how wonderful holidays are with the Kents, so I had to come back,” she admitted.
“You know you’re always welcome here,” Clark said.
“Thanks.” Lucy smiled. Lois wasn’t sure if the touch of color in her cheeks was simply from the cold outside or if her kid sister was slightly embarrassed at just how warm and attentive a welcome she received from the Kents.
********
“Ho! Ho! Ho! Merry Christmas!” Perry exclaimed from the elevator bank platform. In his bright red suit and polyester beard, he looked very much the part of a department store Santa. But to the children of the Planet staff, it was pure magic.
“Santa!” little kids yelled out as they raced toward jolly ol’ Saint Nick. Perry handed out candy canes to his admiring fans and listened intently as they explained what they wanted for Christmas. From the middle of the bullpen, Lois watched as Jon stood in the crowd of children, holding up his hand and waiting to be called on, like he’d been taught in nursery school.
“Hello there, Jon, what do you want for Christmas?” Perry asked heartily.
“How do you know my name, Santa?” Jon asked.
“I know all little boys and girls,” Santa replied. “And I know you’ve been a good little boy this year.”
Lois smiled as Jon nodded vigorously in agreement.
“So, Lois, no holiday cheer for you?”
Her smile quickly dissolved into a scowl as she turned toward the source of that familiar voice.
Ralph.
In his plaid shirt and novelty Christmas tie with blinking lights, which read “Have you been naughty or nice?” he looked every bit the part of the office creep. He held up a cup of the alcoholic egg nog.
“I’m driving,” she said curtly and turned to walk away.
“Hey Lois, wait!” She had no idea why she turned around to look at him again. He grinned as he pointed up at the mistletoe hanging overhead.
Clark appeared suddenly, stepping between them. She swore he must have moved with superspeed because she had no idea where he’d come from. “Ralph, knock it off,” he said tersely.
“Or what, Kent, you’re going to pound me?” Ralph asked with a nervous laugh.
“No,” Clark replied. “I just won’t stop Lois from beating the tar out of you.”
Ralph smiled awkwardly and tried to laugh again. “You guys are funny, you know that? That’s why I like kidding around with you so much.” Even as he spoke, he backed away from them uncomfortably.
“My hero,” Lois whispered as she put her hand on her husband’s chest. He smiled as he pointed up at the mistletoe she was still standing under. Obligingly, she stood on her toes to kiss him. “Are you always going to come rushing in to save the day?” she asked.
“Hey, I really was saving Ralph from you,” he joked.
“Oh, that has to stop,” Lois declared angrily as she started to cross the bullpen.
“What?” Clark asked. She pointed at Ralph’s latest target, her kid sister. From this distance, no ordinary person would have been able to hear Ralph’s crass comments, but Lois, of course, was no ordinary person and she’d be damned if she was going to let Ralph talk to Lucy like that. Before she could cross the room and throw Ralph in a hammerlock, though, Lucy was throwing her egg nog in his face.
Lois smiled triumphantly, proud of her kid sister, as she felt her husband tug on her hand. She let him pull her into his arms. “Nobody messes with the Lane women,” he said with a soft chuckle.
“Damn right,” she agreed. Turning slightly, she watched as Jimmy brought Lucy another cup of egg nog, his expression a beaming and enthusiastic smile.
Clark stepped behind her, his arms still wrapped around her. She felt him kiss her shoulder. “Can you believe that next Christmas, we’ll have another little person in our family?” he asked wistfully.
“I know,” she whispered, putting her hands on top of his. “It’s kind of amazing.”
“It’s completely amazing,” he confirmed. In recent weeks, he’d never really let his doubts creep into their conversations about the baby, but she knew they were still there. He worried, just like she did, that everything might not be okay. But he treated the pregnancy like it wouldn’t be able to resist the power of his positive thinking. Or maybe he was just hoping the results of their amniocentesis would be a Christmas miracle.
********
He showed up literally out of the blue one day, saved dozens of lives, the entire space program, and stunned the world. He prevented the destruction of all life on Earth. He fought crime, natural disasters, and the basest of all human instincts.
And then one day, he left us just as abruptly as he’d showed up.
He made us believe a man could fly, but when we thought he’d left us, we believed he’d exposed his own feet of clay. For years, the most quixotic of us hoped against hope that he’d come back. But frankly, for the majority of humanity, his role transformed rather quickly from the hero we depended on to a historic icon we remembered nostalgically. Superman had always appealed to the better angels of our nature. But with him always there to save us, we lost our sense of urgency. Heroism, it seemed, was the realm of the superhuman. Not for us mere mortals to dabble in. And when he left, we complained with a bitter sense of entitlement about being abandoned.
So when he reappeared, at the darkest hour of our despair, when for millions of people, all sense of hope was lost, the shock was somehow even greater than our first glimpse of the flying man who could lift a space shuttle into orbit. He was even more remarkable than that – after years of having to lead people into war on his own world, he kept his word and came back when we needed him most. The toll it took on him was obvious. The photograph seen ‘round the world of an extraordinarily vulnerable man enduring the grief that only death on an epic scale can create, showed that the Man of Steel had a heart as breakable as anyone else’s.
This superhuman superhero from an alien world has done more than anyone we can think of to teach the world what it means to be human. He embodies the best of what each of us wishes we were – someone who keeps his word, no matter the cost, who is moved to fight suffering wherever he finds it, who extends his compassion and protection to the least among us, with no expectation of reward.
Over the course of the last year, he has reminded us how he made us believe in miracles in the first place. It wasn’t the flying or the bending of steel bars. It was the crazy, inexplicable example of a man with great power, who only used that power to help others.
It is this one simple fact that made Superman Time Magazine’s Man of the Year.
Dr. Friskin dropped the magazine on her desk. It was a heck of a testament to the amazing work he’d done over the past year. If the rest of the world had any idea what he’d overcome in order to once again be the hero they all needed, it would have humbled them even more.
And yet sadly, she knew the distinction meant nothing to Clark. He couldn’t have cared less about the praise and plaudits, especially now. He was fixated—consumed even—by his concerns about Lois, their pregnancy, and bringing to justice the people who’d put his family in danger. The near-bombing of the Planet threatened to derail so much of the progress he’d made. And from a distance, Dr. Friskin watched him in the constant struggle against his fears and anxieties. She wished the world were fair—that life would provide good people with only good things, but she knew it wasn’t how things worked. Some people faced more than their share of adversity. Some were truly crushed by the weight of their troubles.
But Clark Kent and Lois Lane were two of the most resilient people she’d ever met. If anyone were going to get through this ordeal and come out on the other side stronger, it was the two of them. Of course, she wished they didn’t have to go through the ordeal at all, but life rarely cared about people’s wishes.
********
She looked up hopefully, expectantly, as Bernie opened the door and entered his office. His eyes were down as he read the lab report, which meant she couldn’t see his expression. Clark gave her hand a gentle squeeze. She glanced at him briefly and tried to smile, but expected that it came out more like a grimace. Still looking down at the paperwork, Bernie bumped into the corner of his desk. He looked up.
His face was ashen.
“I’m sorry,” he said. “The pregnancy isn’t viable.”
The words tore through her. Her skin was suddenly hot and she couldn’t hear anything except the dull thud of her own pounding heart and a strange ringing in her ears. She felt Clark’s hand slip from hers. Her head snapped to the side and she watched as he got out of the chair next to hers and backed away slowly. Burning tears rolled down her cheeks and her breath was ripped out of her lungs. This wasn’t happening. This couldn’t be happening.
Lois looked dumbly at Bernie, who was still talking—or at least his lips were moving, but she couldn’t hear a thing. “No!” she heard herself yell.
She sat bolt upright in the darkness and an instant later, felt her husband’s large, heavy arms surround her in a cocoon of warmth. “Lois? Honey, are you okay?” he whispered in the darkness.
She nodded wordlessly and lay back down in his embrace. They hadn’t even done the amnio yet; it was scheduled for tomorrow afternoon. They wouldn’t have the results for another week after that. The thought of the wait they were still facing was pure torture.
“I hate not knowing,” she whispered as she lay in his arms.
“I know,” he replied, running a soothing hand up and down her back. Her heart was still pounding from the nightmare and it felt like she couldn’t catch her breath. And no matter how tightly her husband held her, her skin was still ice cold, still prickled by gooseflesh. Clark kissed her forehead and she tilted her chin up to seek out and capture his lips with her own.
She kissed him fiercely, needing the reassurance of just how wrong her dream had been. No matter what happened, Clark was going to be there with her. She knew that. He would never abandon her. He couldn’t. “Make love with me,” whispered against his lips. “Please.”
He kissed her urgently in response and into the early hours of the morning, provided more than adequate proof of just how much he loved her.
